Out of Element
by Hanley.C
Summary: At sixteen, Harper Cass finds himself in trouble after taking up a dare that ends up sending him overseas. Now, in Britain as a Hogwarts transfer student, he's in over his head deeper than ever before. Femmeslash/Femslash OC No longer on hiatus 6/22/11
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Harper Cass finds himself in trouble after taking up a dare, one that sends him overseas. Now in Britain, he finds himself in a hell of a mess. Eventual Femmeslash/Femslash. Possible Slash. OC-Centric. AU.

**A/N: This is my first, so I will definitely take any constructive criticism offered. good or bad. I also take any suggestions to heart, and consider them all. Damn, I would even be happy with only one review. By the way, I am going to be changing things around a bit. (Hence the AU warning.) This takes place around today's date, the twenty-first century, simply so I won't have to think back on any details of the nineties. What can I say? I'm lazy. So far, for the first chapter at least, italics are the present Harper looking back. Oh, and… uh, I guess I should go into Harper's appearance, huh? Albino-esque, gray eyes, five foot ten, lean, blah blah blah. Any questions? Ask!**

"Talking."

'Thinking.'

_Future-self looking back._

**This Chapter: School Song, Sorting Hat, A/N.**

* * *

**Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, **

**Teach us something, please, **

**Whether we be old and bald **

**Or young with scabby knees, **

**Our heads could do with filling **

**With some interesting stuff, **

**For now they're bare and full of air, **

**Dead flies and bits of fluff, **

**So teach us things worth knowing, **

**Bring back what we've forgot, **

**Just do your best, we'll do the rest, **

**And learn until our brains all rot. **

"…this year, we will also have an exchange student, from North America, who will be sorted last by cause of…"

_I had soon found out that this 'esteemed' school rarely accepts transfers. It was so different from my own, back in the 'Windy City' of Chicago, so much older. We didn't have any castles, only modern buildings. They were more akin to a snob-filled academy, which is all that muggles ever saw: art-savvy students in a boarding school full of braincases; to give us some sense of imagined normalcy. However, Fraxinus Academy of Fine Arts was anything but normal…_

"Jedidiah Baker!"

A few strained moments passed by before a ragged, deep voice bellowed out, **"This one to Hufflepuff!"**

_At that point, I was definitely not looking forward to what surprises were going to happen that year. I still can't believe I'd been accepted, I was sure they'd have found out before accepting my transfer. On the other hand, maybe the old man always knew…_

Harper Mackenzie Cass found himself fidgeting nervously, rubbing at a scuff on the floor with his recently polished, ridiculously expensive shoes. There was a _helluva _long line ahead of him, and he felt himself sweat nervously. Rubbing his hands against his fresh, black slacks, he began to feel the cold hand of regret against his neck.

_To this day, I can't figure out what I would do if I went back in time with what I know now, if I'd still grin cockily and agree to the deal. I mean, deceiving what might be the largest influence to the European Ministry of Magic? Only a foolish person would risk that… Right?_

At sixteen years old, Harper knew the truth about most things. Sure, while he had never been remarkably talented at anything, most of his grades were EE, with a stray O in Potions, and maybe an A in Transfiguration, overall he'd been an alright, an average student. He paid as close attention as he could, but often found his attention drifting off, and while he'd been taking notes, ended up doodling animations in the corners of the parchment.

_McGonagall always did look at me a bit too long. I was certain that she'd seen through the barely-there disguise. That in itself would give me a bit of a heart-attack. Snape and I formed a reluctant friendship, over the first few months. Maybe some people would think it was surprising, or maybe not. It was a constant fear that kept me in line with the professors. If not for the secret, I'd probably be as 'rebellious' as the Potter Force Three…_

The white-haired boy found himself swearing under his breath. Did this place not have any Americans? He didn't think much of the headmaster's comment about North America until realizing that there were absolutely no 'Western' accents in the air. None he could hear, anyways. All he heard were various European dialects. Humming, he looked around the long corridor. Heaving a sigh, he estimated about one hundred people ahead of him. At the rate of passing, he had at least an hour until he could sit.

_Chicago―the United States―has always been generally disconnected from Europe in terms of news. I mean, sure. We had a fleeting fear of Voldemort at the time of his attacks, but we never really worried. Who in their right mind would want to go to the U.S.? Even to attack them?_

Harper tensed as a cool sensation barreled through him. Dazed eyes blinking around, he caught sight of a morose, pearly-white, lithe, grandiose-looking man who seemed to nearly glow. The man solemnly introduced himself as a "Sir Nicholas De Mimsy Porpington", startling the teen even more. Sputtering out his own introduction, Harper blushed.

"You've never heard of Hogwarts' ghosts, have you?"

_We'd never heard of Harry Potter, either. No parents told their children about him. Going into that year, I was completely oblivious to being in the same year as a famous boy. I guess it's pretty embarrassing when you ask over a full mouth who someone (who seems rather famous) is. But, then again, that's just one more thing to add to a rapidly growing list…_

Looking towards the voice, he saw a young girl smiling at him. "Not one bit," he replied with a small grin, "Just transferred from overseas. My name's Harper."

The girl's eyes lit up, "You're the exchange student? Oh, sorry. My name's Vanessa Bishop. It's a pleasure to meet you."

_The scary thing is, most of those first years were more mature than plenty of kids my age were, back in the States. I told her so and she just smiled. I would've been, too, if I wasn't bribed to be polite while I was young. Promises of candy could get parents very, very far. But, what can you do?_

The two conversed for a while, mostly about the differences in the culture. He commented how he thought it odd, them being schooled at such a late age, while in the U.S. were taught since about five years. Of course, there was always the problem of those born later in the year, such as Harper himself (who was a September birth), they'd end up being in whichever grade suited their age at September first.

_That year would see that I'd only be kind to the younger students. And, out of them, only a few. I'm a sucker for a little brat, maybe. It's too bad that once they reach twelve they're despicable. It's true, it never changes. A kid's adorable 'til they touch puberty, then what're they good for?_

Caught up in the conversation, neither noticed the time flying until a Scottish voice called out, "Vanessa Bishop."

Smiling apologetically, the young girl ran to the stage, Harper walking slowly after. There were two other students waiting to go up, and then he'd be forced into the spotlight. He could feel quiet constriction in his chest, anxiety getting the best of him. Fidgeting anxiously, he wrung his hands together, the feel of his wand in his pants still a bit foreign.

_By the time I was called on the stage, my lips were ruined―when I'm nervous I tend to bite them. A lot. We never bothered with anything like houses at Fraxinus. It caused too much drama and rivalry. Then again, the U.S. Wizarding Community wasn't concerned with happenings in the outside world, so we didn't need to show conflict in our school. Most of us didn't leave the country, I wasn't going to. I favored my city over any other. The country as a whole could learn a lot from isolationism. If our muggle country had gone and embraced isolationism we wouldn't be in this seemingly endless war with Iraq, nor would we be targeted for countless "terrorism" attacks. I say they deserved it. In my opinion, we're truly a hopeless union._

"Now, if we may have our transfer come up? Harper Cass."

Harper could feel himself swallow, he could feel his cheeks flush as he walked towards the platform. His feet felt too heavy. What would the hat do to him? It was rather tattered, beyond worn out. They needed a new one, desperately. He looked to the older Scottish woman and examined her black hair, pulled back into a tight bun. He saw her observant eyes, and turned to the stool, barely looking out at the crowd as he sat uncomfortably. Just before the hat descended, gray eyes met a gentle brown, barely noticing bushy hair, and he smiled unconsciously.

**Well, well, well. What have we here?,** a voice seemed to echo dangerously in his mind, and he briefly wondered if he was going mad. A raspy chuckle placed itself through his thoughts, through his being. Harper Cass felt violated like never before, **Don't worry, child. I'm the Sorting Hat. I've never had to sort someone as old as you. Well, I have, just not for ages. **

Finding himself relaxing, he thought to himself, 'What do you want to know?'

**What do I want to know? I can see anything I'd like of you from here. And, let me tell you, Harper, you're quite brave to be hiding something like that. Tell me, how long do you plan to keep it concealed?**

Throat dry, the young man felt blood pound in his ears, 'I know it's foolish, but I need to do this. Please… please don't tell anyone? I know where I belong.' A flash of green flew behind his eyes.

**You think you qualify for Slytherin just because of an immature challenge? While I must admit, you are cunning in the way you go about it, I don't think you're quite suited for the blatantly vicious Slytherin lifestyle. You're quite loyal… and intelligent. Hufflepuff maybe? No, no… Ravenclaw?**

Eyes still wide, he felt himself pale considerably. Hufflepuff sounded ridiculous, and Ravenclaw sounded like a book he'd read in sixth year, er. His school's sixth year, at least. Swallowing visibly, he frowned, 'Please, neither of those. I'll trust in your greater judgment, but I truly believe I'm suited for Slytherin. From what little I've heard about the House, anyways.'

Another throaty chuckle passed though the depths of his mind, and he silently cursed. He was screwed. At a full-blown raucous laughter passing by, he winced. Oh, yes. He was screwed. All he could do at this point was pray that the Hat would have mercy. Damn, if his friends knew that last thought… Well, they'd never let him live it down.

**Well, you seem to be pretty set on where you go. It is a pity that you're not able to join all four, you'd make a lovely addition to any of them.**

_You all might not understand the difficulty of this point in my journey. Well, not yet at least. All you've been able to hear is how I was sent out on a dare, half-way around the world, overseas. All for some childish goad. Well, you don't exactly know what my test was. It wasn't anything like wearing lipstick every day. It wasn't painting my toenails pink. It wasn't something trivial. I'm still not quite sure of the consequences of my actions, seeing as how things had gone out of control. You see, my confounded nature is simply due to the fact that I'd been sent into the hardcore Wizarding World. Internationally, as well. If it were a muggle school, it wouldn't be nearly as risky. But, unfortunately, I'm sitting on a stool in the World's leading teaching facility, surrounded by what may be a handful of the world's most powerful Witches and Wizards. _

**Well, then, **Harper felt a rush of…something, and the voice was no longer in his head, "**this one to…"**

_I'm in a bit of a pickle. You see, I'm not a boy._

* * *

**A/N: Most people probably saw that coming, and I curse myself for not having more originality. Maybe you could let me know on some things to change, errors, etc? I'm not too good at proofreading my own works. Plus, it's 4:45AM. I thought the Wizarding World could use some simply **_**grand**_** U.S. influence. Constructive criticism is always welcome, in whatever form. All I need is some feedback: should I keep this going or should I delete it and pretend it never existed?  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I got a few favorites within the first hour on that last chapter. Thanks! Again, any feedback... Sorry this chapter is so short. **

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I stretched, grumbling with a small smile and took the shot of firewhisky that was offered to me. A quick survey of the room showed twelve other teens well on their way to having hangovers the next morning.

Allowing myself a good, tired laugh, I jumped right into the boat with them.

Within moments, we had positioned ourselves in a sloppy, drunken circle. An empty bottle of firewhisky was being tossed around cheerfully. It was our annual party, sans a few members who had graduated. This was the time of the year where we chose who would be put on Duty(1) for the next year.

A movement caused most of us to focus on Jacob standing up. I tittered as he swayed slightly, obviously trying to regain his footing. I caught a glare sent my way, and pretended to sober up. It had been his time last year, and this year there would be one of three of us up for judgment: Jennifer, myself, and Barry.

Jacob looked around at us solemnly. "As you all _should _remember, I was chosen last year as the poor sap who is forced into…"

Well honestly, at that point I was feeling far too drunk to focus on what he was saying. I felt pretty bad as he seemed quite sure of himself.

_Shit, seeing him in his skivvies on the head table was worth anything_, my mind had unconsciously wandered back to the last day of classes and I could barely contain a most unladylike snort. The sixteen year old boy had been told to dress in very revealing women's lingerie as he stripped to their school song. His long, light brown hair was tied up in pigtails as he did a very convincing striptease for their headmaster. _That poor kid, it had to be mortifying for him. It's a good thing Professor Xuriul is such a good sport._

Concentrating on the sympathy I felt for him, I somehow managed to muster enough focus to catch a few more words that ran from his mouth, barely noticing his gaze locked onto me, "…since time's running low, I think we'd best have our star pupil as the puppet this year. All in favor?"

I could _feel_ my blood chill over. He meant business, which must mean that he knew that I picked out the number he wore back in June.

"Oh, shit, Jacob. Me?" I barely kept from stuttering. I could hear my laugh, it was too nervous, and his smirk said he heard it, too.

"Yes, my dear buttercup. You. You'll be graduating before the others, so it's really only fair."

I held my head in my hands and tried not to hear Jennifer and Barry whooping with joy and relief. I could feel my shoulders slump and looked up warily.

His smile was a little too wicked as he reached over to the table. What I saw in his hands made me sober up within seconds. "Uh, Jake? Why do you… What are the scissors for?"

He hummed to himself, and I felt like cutting the tense air away with a machete. He looked down sadistically into my eyes. I'd scarcely noticed that he'd been moving towards me. The look in his eyes was terrifying, and I began to sweat nervously.

"Harper, dear. You're in for the _ride _of your life. Up on the Chair(2), sweetheart." The group howled with laughter, and I scowled to them just as much as it was to myself. _This is abuse. _I pouted, my own high completely lost in the sheer nerve-shearing terror that came with being put in the chair. Sighing, I pushed myself off the floor, feeling a nervous weight in my stomach.

Glancing back, I saw Sandra reach her hand out to me. _At least somebody sympathizes. _Smiling, I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it once, squeezing it gently. We'd been in a relationship since our eighth year. Smiling softly, I whispered reassuring words that neither of us believed. We would never be able to hold our relationship together.

Groaning, I straightened my back to narrow my eyes at Jacob playfully, but couldn't keep a straight face. Spinning around, I innocently asked a question to those still conscious, "Did anyone get a chance to record Jake's show? 'Cause if I'm gonna be Chair'd, then I'll need good memories." Leering slyly at Jacob, I winked. Another round of drunk hoots filled the room. I smiled at this and walked over to sit in the chair, running my fingers through my hair with a sigh. "A boy?"

Jacob nodded quietly. I looked up into his face and noted the concentration. Smirking, I shook my head. _Don't tell me he's going to cut my hair? Jacob, m'boy, you have just out-gayed yourself._

When he spoke, I had to lean in to hear what he was saying. It doesn't matter if he's talking to himself, I want to know what's going to happen to me. "Short… very short… Maybe one long braid… small, but long…"

Biting my cheek, I couldn't help but tease him, "Remembering your sexcapades this morning, Jacob?"

I couldn't help it, seeing his jaw drop like that. I began to sputter, nearly falling off the chair. His vicious look only served to make me laugh harder, and tears began to leak out. Okay, maybe I wasn't _that _sobered up.

I wheezed lightly, wiping my eyes. His muttered threats weren't doing much good, until I could heat his voice, quiet and sinister.

"You know what? For that, you're going to look **super butch**." Jacob snipped the scissors quickly near the end of his sentence with sharp emphasis, "_super butch_."

* * *

I groaned miserably as I gazed in the mirror. Leaning forward over the sink, I ran my hands through the inch-and-a-half-long tresses. Huffing deeply, I tried to ruffle it up to no avail. It was a dyke 'do, and there was nothing I could possibly do to change it. He'd made a one-year no growing policy(3) on it, and I'd already tried countless spells to reverse it. The hair barely touched my ears. I'd _freeze _during winter.

"You're an ass, Jacob," I sniffed haughtily, eyeing the baggie of hair, finely snipped, near the sink. I was supposed to use it as stubble, coupled with muggle spirit glue.

I could hear Jacob sigh and turn off his ABBA record before staring at me through the mirror with a proud grin, "You're just upset that you didn't realize that you might need it during your Duty. Besides, I'm proud of myself. You look absolutely _ravishing_. Hell, if you really were a man…" he trailed off with a leer.

I laughed at that. "What? Go find Brandon, look at him like that. I feel dirty just having you say that."

I smiled at him, turning to lean out of the door. Looking around at the floor littered with passed out drunks, I clucked quietly to myself, "The poor bastards didn't even stand a chance."

I could hear his chuckle and glanced back. "Can you give me more details on the Duty tomorrow?" Eying the sofa, I could feel my fatigue, "I'm about ready to keel over."

"We-ell, I suppose I can let you off just this once."

"Jake, there's no way I'm going to do Duty again after this. Snowball's chance in hell."

He laughed, settling down next to an unconscious blonde, who I recognized as Nate. "Downgrading, Jake?"

"Shut it, woman. Oh, and, you'll be shipped off to Hogwarts. I'm sorry, but it's best you know now. After all," he waggled his eyebrows in amusement, "you might want a few more days with your lady love before you're gone."

I flushed, sighing as I shuffled over to Sandra, kneeling next to her and moving a stray lock of hair out of her face. Kissing her gently, I moved to lay behind her with all intentions of holding her. _Jake, you'll get what's coming to you. Mark my words. _I meekly looked down at the girl in my arms and felt the sharp regret. I really wish I didn't have my goddamn pride, sometimes. I knew I'd miss her terribly. _This is gonna suck._

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**A/N: A filler chapter. Short, probably pointless, but I thought a little background into the characters would do good. Sorry if it's boring. Feedback? I listen to all opinions and/or suggestions.**

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**Notes:**

**(1)Dares were often referred to as "Duties" as to avoid suspicion in everyday topics, once such small example, "Don't forget your duty tonight, Tim. It's your turn this round."**

**(2)The Chair is a 'club' symbol of the switch of identity. Every three years or so the chosen member would sneak a peek at the gradually built funds and decide whether the next sucker is in for a ride to their doom.**

**(3)Made sure it wouldn't grow for an entire year with the aid of some phony spell. (:**


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: This is the first day of term (not to be confused with the first day of lessons) Wednesday, 27 August. Since the first day of lessons is always a Monday, that'll be 1 September. _

_Oh, also, in the Goblet of Fire, the seating arrangement changed from the Philosopher's Stone: Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and then Gryffindors. In the Philosopher's Stone, it's Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. I'm just following the books, you know?_

* * *

**"…Ravenclaw!"**

Once I found my head liberated from the intrusive hat I stood awkwardly, dragging my eyes towards a cheering row of tables to the mid-right of the High Table. The blue and bronze robes were flanked between silver, green, yellow, and black. I bit my lip subtly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

One thing I had noticed since first sitting uncomfortably in front of the entire goddamn school were those _looks. _Looks from girls that I _knew_ I would not be getting if my chest was not banded, rather painfully, down. Looks that would not touch me if my hair was not cropped so close to my head.

In truth, the whole idea left an _extremely _bitter taste in my mouth. I glanced around, my own eyes catching those from just before. Frowning, I turned back to the table, sitting down in an empty seat to offer a smile and an offhand greeting.

I sat with my back to the Hufflepuff table, casting occasional glances at Vanessa, who grinned in return. As my eyes slid from her, towards the table in front, I caught Dumbledore looking at me with an indiscernible glint in his spectacled blue eyes.

Feeling suddenly cold, I wrapped the robe tighter around me, turning back to the nice-looking, albeit a bit sad, Asian girl across from me, in a heated discussion with some boy whose appearance did not concern me, "―no, no, Birch slaughtered Wood this summer, just weeks after he joined the bloody Puddlemeres. He used com_plete_lylegal moves, too, Carmichael. Come off it."

I tuned out the conversation easily. After all, Quidditch was nowhere near as exciting as Quodpot. With a sigh I glanced around the hall, noticing for the first time the numerous constellations dotting a replicated sky, draped like a sheet across the ceiling.

The sky was a lovely pitch, the stars splayed out like spattered paint on a canvas. They were generally a soft blue-white, with a few reddish, several golden, and ten or twelve tinted a soft green. It was a ridiculously accurate imitation, to be sure.

As I absent-mindedly sipped a glass of pumpkin juice (sorely wishing for something less… gross) a few minutes later, someone tapped me on the leg. Turning back around, I dragged disinterested eyes towards the girl next to me ―_Marietta, was it_?― her curly red-blonde hair a bit unruly as she carelessly invaded my personal space. Remembering my manners, aided by the simultaneous memory that this was to be my home as well as these my classmates for the next ten months, I came back to the real world and raised my eyebrows with a slightly tight, forced smile.

"Yes?" I asked her, not bothering to keep the confusion censored from my voice. I didn't receive a vocal answer, just a concerned glance down towards my pants. I stared at her, unmoving in confusion. Sure, the damn slacks had been uncomfortable and itchy for the past few minutes, but it's not as if I could get an erection... er, could I? I stared at the panic in her expression, before cautiously glancing down.

I followed her eyes and felt myself jump off the bench before I could stop it. My eyebrows shot up as I looked down in staggered bewilderment. I honestly thought I was lucky that the jump didn't attract everyone's attention this time around. My eyes wouldn't tear themselves away from the black, _smoking_ pants.

I managed to bite my tongue, keeping myself from screaming like a little girl, long enough to shove my hand in the pocket, painfully pulling out the remains of my new cellular phone. I cursed as I dropped the sizzling, sparking ruins onto the floor. Quickly and furiously, I choked out a smoke extinguishing charm, the wisps sucked from existence well before I alerted the entire frickin' Hall to my embarrassing panic.

I sat back on the bench in disdain, simply looking at the fizzing metal and plastic. Anger began to bubble up in me, but before I was able to act on it in any way, a voice distracted me.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Cho had moved around the table to investigate, and now looked at me for an answer, pointing to the indescribable mass.

Chuckling, our eyes met. "It's a muggle communication device. They call it a cellphone. You're able to talk to other people on it."

"Then why do you have one?" At her surprised curiosity, I found myself giving away my first authentic smile of the evening.

"It's just easier to communicate with friends back in the States. Our school was located _in_ the city, unlike here, so it didn't bring us unneeded attention."

I vaguely noticed the others from our particular table holding an interest. One tawny-haired boy looked wide-eyed, "How does one of those work?"

"Erm, well, most of my friends own one, so you just dial their number. If they answer, you just talk." I held out my hands in the universal, _'Hell if I know'_ gesture. "It's crude and has all of the muggle attributes, but they sure know how to make things, that's for sure."

"Like what?" Cho asked, sitting next to me in a tight spot that forced us close. Fighting my blush, I glanced at her, a bit uncertainly. _You know, it's just my luck that they're all purebloods, maybe half bloods... _

I shrugged, feeling overly awkward. "Maybe it's just because our country is so concentrated with muggles. We've got muggles everywhere while you guys, on the other hand, are separated from them considerably. You've got a damn castle. Some of their inventions are also actually quite convenient, so I don't mind as much," I paused, tossing the dark-haired girl a wink; "although, I think I'll keep my foe-mirror."

It was at the exact moment of my noticing Cho's blush that I realized what deep trouble I was in for. I had nearly forgotten that I was masquerading as a boy, and I could tell how long of a year it was going to be. I spun around momentarily and reached out for a strawberry, accidentally touching another anonymous girl's hand and inwardly groaned. _Oh, yes. This is going to be one helluva long year._

I frowned as my eyes automatically moved to a black-haired boy across the Hall. He was sitting, making gestures with his hands every now and then, seemingly talking exuberantly. I wasn't sure why I was still facing that direction, but I couldn't help keeping my attention on the boy, who seemed somewhat annoying, just by sight. I brought a particularly large strawberry to my mouth, taking occasional bites.

Following my eyes, Cho smiled, but to me her voice sounded a bit off, "Oh. That's Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. Those other two, they're somewhat well known here."

I paused, the strawberry bite in my mouth, "Who's Harry Potter? You say his name as though I should know him," as soon as the words slipped out of my mouth, I swallowed the last bite of the berry. _Damn, those are some good berries…_ I turned my attention back to the girl, who looked shocked. _What? Is he an ex or something?_

"Merlin, Harper! Harry Potter is the boywho_ lived,_" she spoke under her breath, still staring at me.

"Uhhh. Hey, I'm alive too," I accentuated my response with a careless shrug, "you're alive. Hey, nearly everyone in here is _alive_." I smiled politely with a somber nod to the tall, slim, ghostly woman drifting by forlornly.

"So, uh… What's so special about him, anyway?"

Cho shook her head as though I'd sprouted three more. "He survived _You-Know-Who's _curse."

"Wait, who?"

Another stricken look. I was beginning to feel rather coarse. "V-V-Voldemort."

"That one guy? Went mad, ended up killing a bunch of people? We never knew much about him."

Cho opened her mouth to respond before shutting it, shaking her head. A few moments passed before she spoke again, "Sure. Let's leave it at that. Nobody else's survived the killing curse, especially not from the Dark Lord. That's why he's somewhat of an idol, I suppose."

I fell silent, simply looking at the boy from a distance, a guarded expression on my face. I don't understand what made him so special. _We've got an abundance of serial killers back home, and several people have survived. I don't know the name of even one of them._ Sneering slightly, my disgust for this boy, one I didn't even know, rose considerably. He was probably perfectly nice, but I already couldn't stand him.

Just as I was about to look away, one of his companions caught my eye. It was that brown-haired girl from before. I found her staring right at me, undisguised suspicion evident in her narrowed eyes. Just as I was about to ask Cho about her, the house prefects called us up to the Common Rooms.

I stood hesitantly, looking at the others I was sitting with. They paid little mind to the other students exiting the room. "Hey, aren't we supposed to go?"

Marietta lazily looked up, "What? Oh. No, those are the first years. Unless you feel like going, at least."

I fought with myself for a few minutes, sitting back down. Cho had gone back to arguing about Quidditch, and Marietta wasn't very good company. I opted instead to continue observing the students remaining. There weren't many, that's for sure. At this point, I was really hoping that there was more to do.

"'Ey, Harper," I turned to see Terry Boot glancing at me over a glass of pumpkin juice (to which I withheld a shudder), "what year are you? I'm pretty sure you're above me."

He was right. I think the kid was a fifth year at that point, but I wasn't too sure. I shrugged, "I'll be going into the sixth year. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you were going to try out for the Quidditch team." I noticed Cho perk up at the words.

"Are you? That'd be wicked!"

I floundered for an excuse, any excuse. "W-Well, actually. I have this thing with my muscles. Y'see, they, uh, they spasm, sometimes. It makes flying quite a chore. I, uh, end up jerking **everywhere**. It'll just end up in disaster, honest. So, I don't think I'll be able to."

_They _definitely _don't need to know I'm afraid of heights._

Cho grinned, looking further down the table. "Oi! Davies! I think we've found the perfect bloke for the team."

I coughed, "What?"

Cho smiled sheepishly, "Well, we were looking for a good distraction role. If you're everywhere, it'll startle the other players... It'd be dead helpful."

Davies examined me, straining his eyes as if it'd let him see more. He scratched his jaw, "We'll give him a try. Meet me at the pitch on Friday, alright, mate? If you work out, we'd be chuffed."

Nodding with a half-smile, I downed a glass of pumpkin juice without grimacing. I clenched my jaw, _Maybe I'll get used to the taste. Eventually. Hopefully._ Honestly, it wasn't so much the taste as the combination of the taste and the texture.

I'd been glad at how easy it was to slip out of the conversation. They really didn't care either way, seeing as how I'd just gotten there. I hummed quietly, a muggle band's music drifting through my ears. _I wish my phone didn't spontaneously combust like that. I just wonder why it didn't happen sooner._

As if my mind was being read, the Headmaster had come up beside me while I was staring at the ground. I could barely see his expression through that beard. Lord, it was long enough to tuck into his trousers. If his eyes gave anything away, he was severely amused. "_Mister _Cass, may I speak to you a moment?"

With the first word he spoke, I swallowed audibly and stood on shaky legs, "Yes sir, Dumbledore, sir."

The old man _laughed_ at that. This confounded me even more so; if he wasn't going to kick me out, then why talk to me? I smiled a bit nervously in return. I turned to briefly say goodbye to the others before following him out of the hall, passing by several staircases, and finally resting at a pair of gargoyle statues. Dumbledore simply spoke out, "Toothflossing Stringmints" and a staircase began to spin out of the wall. I stared in shock for a few moments, bounding up the stairs after him.

"Well, Mister Cass, it seems that we're at a bit of an impasse."

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_A/N: I haven't really decided if I care for Umbridge to be in this, since it's set in the Trio's fifth year and all. 'Course I could always mess around with some things, I suppose.__** Feedback, both good and bad, is always welcome. **_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm a terrible, awful, dreadful person and I have lied to you all. Well, all of you reading this story, at least. I'll try to be better, I promise. I've tried writing this chapter about eight times, sober, inebriated, stoned, nothing. Soooo it's a piece of trash, but it's a stepping stone to something better and gives a bit of insight into Harper's character and changes that will be happening to hi—her from here on out. My baby's growing up. **To avoid further gaps, I accept criticism, threats, and ideas.**

* * *

I once again felt an incessant buzzing in my limbs around four in the morning, thanks to a spell I'd found while on the train ride to Hogwarts, a silent alarm that's sure to wake you! To be honest, this was probably the most trouble I've had to go through for anything. I dragged myself out of the dorms and down into the washroom, where I quickly got ready for the day. After brushing my teeth, I got around to the most bothersome part of the whole ordeal: binding the godforsaken chest. I wasn't even big in that region, but it was still a pain in the ass.

The reason I didn't simply throw a charm to keep myself in line was because I had a sneaking suspicion that someone would be able to notice, or it'd run out sometime during the day. That last possibility just might get me in trouble. Maybe.

Dunking my head under the water of the sink for a moment, I allowed myself some time to reflect on the past week. I'd been speaking more and more with Ms. Chang and the others, and I'd been avoiding the Potter boy like the plague. There's no way it's natural to be so pale, he resembled a druggie very severely. Especially with that hideous scar on his forehead. I couldn't help but compare him to Charles Manson: the scar, his dark and shaggy hair, and the pale skin. The two also had a madness in their eyes. It wasn't until Cho pointed it out that I realized I'd look at the young man with severe contempt.

Who is he to claim himself a celebrity? I had to smirk at the whispers I'd hear about the young man. "Pothead Potter" was my favorite by far. Alas, despite these rumors, the girl (Harriet? Heather? Hermes?) would still barely bat an eyelash towards me. I jerked my head out of the sink once it became unbearably necessary that I breathe. Grumbling, I pat the towel over my head.

I hitched up my bag, which I had left strewn on the floor before shambling to a shower stall. We'd learnt silent spells our second year, something the Headmaster must have known when he handed me the scrap of paper, two spells scrawled upon it elegantly. I thought the few words of the first to myself as I stepped into the shower, body aching as it grew and shrunk and it took all I had not to scream as I was reinvented, inside and out. Ready or not, here I come.

Flitwick finally relented, looking exhausted after our debate and I smiled triumphantly.

"Now, Mister Cass, you must realise that you'll be overworking yourself if you take on two extra courses," the small man squeaked slowly, "but if it is what you really wish, then I will make the change immediately. You are dismissed."

Once closing the office door behind me, I grinned at Cho, who'd insisted that it would be a lost cause.

"You're bloody well joking," she choked out. I tapped my nose with a wink and noted how her ears flushed lightly. Interesting. "Why would you even want to go into Advanced Ancient Runes?"

"Well, we don't have it back at Fraxinus," I shot her a crooked grin, "I've always been a sucker for punishment anyhow." I felt a blush even as the words left my lips; oh Merlin it was going to be a long year.

Cho ended up laughing shortly, and I entertained myself by listening to it. It was obvious she'd be one of the maneaters at the school. I walked alongside her and lightly took her bag (earning myself a shy "thank you" from her) as she started moving down the corridor. Yes, it was torture, but it's not like I could help it. Like I'd said, I'm a glutton for punishment. Her voice shook me out of my thoughts and I smiled down at her.

"I took the liberty of checking out across the pond, and I found that Quidditch isn't very well broadcast at all," there was a mysterious glimmer in her eyes as she turned to me, "and I think I know why you don't want to join the team."

"W-wait, no," I sputtered, eyes wide. "Look, I don't know what you think you—"

"Oh, don't be so belt and braces!" she said as she grappled my arm with a charming laugh (damn her!). I couldn't stop my jaw from dropping and looked to her just in time to see a wicked smile. "Do you want me to teach you to fly?"

I choked and looked away, gaining my composure just in time to see the mousy-haired girl turn a corner towards us. Her eyes met mine and narrowed, I was alarmed by the suspicion I saw reflected in those maple shards and couldn't help myself as I shot her a wink and a grin as we passed.

Her scowl was just too cute.

* * *

Cho led me out to the field, still trying to convince me this was a good idea. "You know, it'd do you well if you just gave the team a chance," she whispered in my ear. I tried not to shiver. "Especially in your sixth year, it's good to get some eyes on you."

The look she fixed me with made me stop my rebuttal before it left my lips. "Right," I murmured, setting her bag down on a bench.

"Now," she said with a grin, taking out her want and casting a simple summoning spell, "we begin."

I could only look on with despair as she caught two broomsticks.


End file.
